The Trophy Room
by Felice09
Summary: As the start of sixth year brings Harry, the apparantly tame vampire back to Hogwarts, an accidental spill of blood leads to consequences, kidnapping and coercion as both vampire and victim hold fort in The Trophy Room. HPDM, Non-Con, Rape, Blood-play.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Trophy Room by Felice09

**Disclaimer: **J K Rowling owns all of the characters, places and intricacies of the world of Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them for my own pleasure and indulgence.

**Warnings: **This story contains mature sexual content. Dub-con, Non-con, Rape and Adult Themes proliferate this work. It is advisable to pass this story over if such themes offend you.

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 1**

It was peculiar how commonplace things suddenly seemed more visceral. The vibrancy was astounding. Running a cold finger down the window pane of the Gryffindor common room, watching the condensation on the glass slide down in fluid drips, Harry mused on the peculiarity of his new aesthetic taste, and how bereft of it the masses were. Could no one else appreciate the beauty of a moonlit Hogwarts? Hear the silken sounds of the forest's Mooncalves treading softly against the leaves that covered the ground? Even the crooning, burbled natter of the Merpeople conversing in the lake was hidden from him before. And now they sound so beautiful, culminating in the rich symphony of Hogwarts at midnight.

"Harry." Even Hermione's disapproving tones from Ron's bed across the room were beautiful now. Lyrical and human, the pulsing, alive feeling of the blood in her voice enthralling Harry slightly. Harry turned to face her, trying to school his expression to the more acceptable 'politely expectant' rather than 'emphatically bemused', an expression that Harry learned tended to be off putting to some, seeing it as conformation of his other nature.

"Harry, you're slipping again." Hermione reminded him, her small forehead contorted in concern. Her frame seemed delicate and her eyes glazed and watery. To her, she would consider herself perfectly focussed, but Harry seemed to pick up the imperceptible distraction she felt, measuring her distance to the redhead beside her. It was noticeable mainly due to the fact that Harry now found himself able to focus 100% on things that caught his interest in a way that he couldn't when human.

Harry pulled himself from his musing, recalling that Hermione had been talking to him. He offered a sheepish smile in response, his eyes flicking demurely from Hermione's humanly unfocused eyes.

"Sorry." He looked back up to see Hermione shift to lean forward on the bed.

"You don't have to be sorry." Hermione corrected him. "It was only a small thing. You zoned out and stopped breathing."

Harry gave a self depreciating laugh. "Right. Because not breathing is a small thing."

"Well, it is to us." Hermione included Ron in her declaration, waving casually to the boy reclined against the headboard, reading an article in Quidditch Weekly Magazine. "I'm just telling you in case someone else notices. You've been quite good with it already. I just don't want to see you upset if someone goes off screaming to the Prophet if they notice something's off, that's all."

"It's a bit much to expect we can keep everyone in the dark." Harry replied, drawing his knees closer to his chest, wrapping a thin arm around himself.

"I know, but we don't need anyone shouting 'vampire' and pointing fingers before the first week's even up." Hermione answered pragmatically. "I know it's tough for you, having to repress your instincts all the time, but it's better to have a shield of normalcy up, at least until we've waited long enough to convince everyone you're not a threat."

"Oh." Harry's green eyes widened, and he hastened to correct Hermione's assumption. "Oh no, it's not a matter of instinct Hermione. God no. No, I was just thinking."

"Oh, that's ok." Hermione placated him. "I was silly to think it was the hunger anyway. You just ate. I was there after all." Hermione's grin was inclusive and devoid of any aversion.

In this way Harry felt lucky to have such good friends, or at least, friends that weren't squeamish when he had to bite into the burgundy creation that quenched his hunger suitably. Happy for a solution that allowed him to co-exist in a school full of his friends, Harry drank the potion compiled mostly of blood and noxious ingredients, ensuring he had no appetite for the students. It was a messy process, as in order for his body to consume the liquid, his fangs had to physically bite into something, and so the blood bag was hidden in an animal skin that was now dotted with puncture marks. Even Harry felt repulsed at the process, so Hermione treating it as a nondescript necessity was very comforting.

"Sorry about that." Harry apologised again, embarrassed that his friends had to witness his daily feeding at all.

"Oh no, I found it fascinating. Simply fascinating. It's an interesting process to be honest. The clinical version would be different from hunting naturally I suppose." Hermione considered.

"I suppose." Harry shifted nervously.

He had little desire to find out, as the moment he had been turned he'd been coddled and cared for by the wizards of the order, removing any need for trial and error hunting. He didn't want to hunt because he didn't want to hurt anyone. Although he couldn't deny he had urges in his subconscious, especially when biting into the faux-animal blood bag. It just wasn't real enough, hardly satisfying, especially as there was no pumping flow from a warm heartbeat. If there was one thing that could drive Harry's instincts to distraction, it was a strident heartbeat.

"I don't think I'd like to find out anytime soon." Harry added to ensure his pacifism to his friends. People tended to get antsy when they realised the supposedly domesticated vampire had latent hankerings for hunting human blood.

"Of course not." Hermione gave an indulgent smile. It was her firm belief that Harry should be graduated into natural hunting, to ensure his safety during the war, when the clinical method would not always be available. She was still treating him as 'just Harry', which was a comfort but probably not wise. Ron and Neville, who had grown up with the pureblood wizarding culture were slightly more cautious of Harry's instinct, and thankful for his clinical method of feeding.

"Good for you mate." Ron grunted from across the room, still absorbed in his magazine but half listening.

Harry replied with a crooked grin before taking a deliberately deep breath to satisfy Hermione. With it came the tang of the million scents in the room, of skin, dust, clothing, food digesting, pores secreting oil, adrenaline, and below these vague unimportant scents was the purveying and distracting scent of blood. Hermione's blood. Ron's blood. And the blood of the hundreds of students interspersed throughout Hogwarts, carrying about their business without the knowledge of just how well their blood drove Harry to distraction.

Mastering himself he took another stiff breath before relaxing and breathing slower. Once Hermione was happy with his 'breathing techniques' Harry could just block off his sense of smell by shrugging his shoulders and stopping his antagonising breaths. As long as he looked like he was breathing he'd be fine, although it was important for Harry to take habitual lungful's of air to talk to people.

Turning to look back out his window, Harry heard the satisfied huff of Hermione's breathing as she levelled herself back upon the bed, turning the stiff pages of her charms textbook, her heartbeat relaxed and lucid. Ron's heartbeat was also calm and regular, the swush of the Quidditch magazine brushing against the cotton of his shirt.

Owl's chirped in the Owlery and the burbled hush of the night outside the walls of Hogwarts lulled Harry back into complacency, as he deliberated his fourth day of the new year back at Hogwarts.

So far his 'condition' had been more than manageable, so he rested in the knowledge that tomorrow would likely entail much of the same.

As he did not sleep, he had all night to ponder and listen to the gentle sound scope of night-time at the Scottish castle.


	2. Chapter 2

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 2**

Harry had been zoning out during potions, his feigned breathing coming in handy in a class where noxious smelling ingredients and sharp knives were a commonality.

He hadn't realised he had ceased his shoulder movements in a way that was obvious until Hermione hissed for him to keep his guard up as she bustled past his table to get ingredients from the potions cupboard.

Requisitioning Professor Slughorn for Dumbledore had been the first real test of Harry's restraint in the holidays, but the gamble had paid off, for Slughorn had no idea of Harry's true nature as of yet (although some of the other teachers suspected) and thanks to that, Harry was able to take NEWT level potions as a subject.

However, a new teacher did not mean old patterns were forgot, and Slughorn paired Harry up with Malfoy, basing the arrangement on test scores, when really Harry just suspected that the universe was displaying it's sick sense of humour.

Not that pairing with Malfoy was necessarily a bad thing, as the bitter rivalry between the boys seemed to be of secondary importance this year to Harry, as not hunting the class for blood was his first priority. Strangely enough, something of greater importance seemed to be consuming the blonde Slytherin as well, as he had made no serious attempts, past snide remarks and the occasional sabotage, to make Harry's life miserable.

It became one of the perks Harry's new aesthetic optimism looked forward to.

Harry found himself much more optimistic as of late, probably due to his vampiric affliction, as he doubted vampires could withstand eternity without a good deal of optimism powering them through.

And so the perks of working with Malfoy kept piling up.

Perks such as, the Slytherin boy was much better at potions then Harry was, and his occasional input had saved several of Harry's potions from becoming life threatening concoctions of disaster.

Perhaps Malfoy had some inbuilt derision of potions ineptitude, or perhaps it was self preservation that stopped him from allowing Harry's potions to blow to kingdom come. But Malfoy's input stopped Harry from failing mostly, and whenever they were given pair work, Harry's mark had always come out exemplary.

Harry also wasn't sure whether to discount it as a perk or an inconvenience, but thanks to his new vampiric aesthetic appreciation, he was now seeing beauty in every nuance of the human form, but none so much as in Malfoy's slender form.

It seemed impossible to overlook the smooth, pampered and pale surface of Malfoy's skin and see it as the pinnacle of human perfection. He noticed things like this with every student, but their skin was always rough, or blemished, or had some flaw of unattractiveness that Harry couldn't find in Malfoy. The more he looked, the more he noticed touches of youthfulness, innocence and insecurity that he hadn't associated with Draco Malfoy before. Before Harry had seen Malfoy as a cruel carbon copy of his father, but in noticing this almost feminine gentleness something had softened Harry's opinion of the boy.

But perhaps the most amusing thing about Malfoy was his heartbeat.

"The lacewing adds thickness to the draught, increasing its potency." Slughorn lectured from the front of the class. Harry's eyes trailed about the classroom, observing everything while Slughorn's histrionic voice wafted into his ears. "It is important to counter the properties of the lacewing with the corrosive properties of the runespoor venom to prevent the mixture from solidifying completely and choking the drinker on the way down. Or else the end results would be permanent for a draught of dreamless sleep, as the drinker would never wake up! Ha ha."

Malfoy was noting down the lecture in his smooth cursive, the plume of his expensive quill bobbing along with the pull of his hand. His hands were smooth and agile, completely free of blemishes, mar for one soft line of scar tissue on his index finger, most likely a potions related incident. His skin was pale, but then again, he had always been pale. "Pale pointy git" was how Ron liked to describe him, but Harry had been noticing his complexion dimming as of late, like the Slytherin was sick, or wasn't eating enough.

It worried Harry, or at least made him cautious. Malfoy had also quit the Quidditch team and had been more withdrawn and solitary this year. He no longer ate with his friends, or interacted with them at all. He seemed introverted and worried often, and Harry wondered if it was because of his father's imprisonment, although he had never seen Malfoy react when the topic of Azkaban arose.

And then there was Malfoy's heartbeat.

Harry could sense now how each heartbeat was different, to the point where he could almost sense the emotions conveyed through the thump of convulsing blood. Sometimes it was harsh and loud, other times a heartbeat could be smooth and lyrical.

Malfoy's heartbeat was full of sorrow. Sorrow and yearning, and at times despair.

And this oddly amused Harry's newfound sense of vampiric aestheticism, because he could find nothing more beautiful than the mournful requiem of Malfoy's heartbeat. It screamed of a helpless loneliness and Harry could not explain the feeling of satisfaction he felt knowing Malfoy felt he had no one to turn to.

"So stirring counter clockwise adds a repetitive motion to the brew, encouraging the deep sleep of potency required." Slughorn chalked his conclusions on the board for the class to copy down.

Malfoy didn't look up from his page as he jotted down the professor's words, allowing Harry to indulge by staring at him freely. As such it gave Harry a start when the boy closed his books with a sharp snap.

Looking up Harry could see Slughorn settling into the puffy green armchair behind his desk. That meant the class would be moving onto the practical part of the lesson, having adequately endured the theory. Harry blinked some more, his body staying rigid as he tried to process that his aesthetic appreciation of staring at Malfoy was to cease.

The message was delivered slightly more abruptly by Malfoy.

"Are you even listening? He said to start on the practical. You're not just going to sit there and ride on my mark this year." Malfoy scowled and snatched Harry's notebook away from him.

Harry had no air in his lungs, due to the sterling example of 'not-breathing-breathing' he was practising, and so found he had to gulp in the fragrant air to respond with an apt retort.

Unfortunately, at that same moment, Malfoy pulled his delicate hands away from Harry's notebook, wincing as he frowned and examined the paper cut bloodying his finger.

Never. Never before had Harry smelled the raw intensity of Malfoy's blood.

As part of his restraint training Ron and Hermione had cut themselves, and Harry had inhaled the smell of their most vital fluids, and found he had the self control to constrain himself. He knew that he'd be fine up to the point of a paper cut or razor flick.

But never had he smelled Malfoy's blood, and if Harry thought his heartbeat was the most delicious thing on earth...

Malfoy instinctively moved to put the cut in his mouth but second guessed himself, remembering perhaps that he was in potions class and it was very irresponsible and highly dangerous to put a cut to your mouth with so many noxious ingredients around. And so he paused, leaving that oh-so-delicious blood to linger and well up in the fragrant air while he searched his pocket for a handkerchief.

The fragrant air was not so fragrant any more, the taint of Malfoy's blood overwhelming all other sensory stimuli in Harry's immediate vicinity. Malfoy's blood throbbed and Harry followed with his eyes the way that wonderful heartbeat pushed more blood into the cut, leaving a spare droplet of blood dripping off Malfoy's finger and into oblivion.

Moving instinctively now, Harry snatched Draco's hand and brought it up to his mouth. He secured his lips around the bleeding digit and pulled heavily at the small stream of blood, the inescapable sense of rightness overriding any of Harry's previous moral qualms about drinking human blood from the source.

Shocked silvery eyes were wide and disbelieving as they froze on Harry's features. Malfoy's beautiful heartbeat hastened and Harry worried briefly that the blonde would panic or scream, giving him away. Truthfully, sucking a cut on Malfoy's finger in the middle of class wasn't the best way to preserve his secret's privacy. Harry just wasn't able to stop himself.

The taste was delicious, in a way that the burgundy blood potion had never been. He could feel the throb of Malfoy's magic with each pulse of his heartbeat. The miniscule taste of that gorgeous elixir wreaked havoc on Harry's lifelong priorities and rearranged them with everything else secondary to prolonging and indulging in this magnificent taste.

It was ambrosial, heavenly and eradicated any and all of Harry's previous stirrings of longing for the blood of others. All else fell short. Could not compare.

Not wanting the glorious sanguinary experience to end, Harry's green eyes focussed unerringly onto Malfoy's silver ones, willing calm into the other boy with all his being. Surprisingly, it seemed to work, as Malfoy's eyes lidded and became soft and sleepy.

A sudden stroke of opportunistic genius gave Harry the idea to lap at the cut for the last time before securing Malfoy with his will again and chanting _"Sleep"_ repetitively in his mind until Malfoy's eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled off the bench.

Springing lithely to his feet Harry caught the blonde boy before he hit the ground, holding his slumping body with care. Harry's sudden movement alerted members of the class to their table, but judging from the curious looks on their faces, he doubted any of them had seen him drinking from Draco's finger.

"Sir!" Harry called to Slughorn, his best 'concerned student' face on, trying desperately to hide the mounting glee that threatened to overwhelm him. "Sir. Malfoy's sick. He fainted. Shall I take him to the hospital wing?"

"Wh-what? Fainted you say?" Slughorn stood up from his plush armchair to get a better look at their table at the back. "Well now. Yes Harry m'boy. I think the hospital wing would be best for Mr Malfoy. Well done for taking the initiative. Ten points to Gryffindor." Slughorn sank back into his armchair, happy that the matter was in someone else's hands.

Harry smirked to himself. How ironic that even the teachers were rewarding him for his most beneficial 'initiative'. Scooping Malfoy's limp form up Harry quickly whisked the unconscious Slytherin out of the classroom, either missing or ignoring Hermione's accusing glare.

It didn't matter. Not to Harry. Not now that he had his beautiful Malfoy with his beautiful blood and his beautiful heartbeat.

Harry practically raced through the corridors, indulging in the vampiric speed he shunned before now in an effort to maintain normalcy. Even as he ran he had a jovially optimistic spring in his step, probably due to the boy he carried princess style in his arms.

Hurtling up staircase and corridor, Harry arrived at the seventh floor, striding purposefully back and forth by the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy and his dancing trolls. Grinning ecstatically when an ornate black and silver door appeared, Harry entered, carrying his captive with him.

Walking purposefully to the elegantly furnished bed in the middle of the room, Harry gently positioned Malfoy's head on the pillows and sought to make him comfortable.

The first port of call would of course be the cut on Draco's finger, and so Harry happily fell upon it, sucking and lapping and devouring the last of the dripping blood until the cut's usefulness was exhausted and Harry frowned at it until the skin closed together and healed. It did not seem odd to Harry that just by scowling at the cut, the small injury healed itself. The rush of Malfoy's blood left Harry feeling so powerful that he did not doubt the reach of his own magic.

Pulling back, he stared at the blonde with satisfaction, indulging his need to look, eyes trailing over this perceived human perfection that sent his adrenaline pumping. Harry licked his lips at the thought that he had Draco all alone, and once Harry could take the appropriate measures, he could ensure that Draco would not be leaving this accommodating room without Harry's express permission.

Smiling down at the sleeping boy, Harry's lips stretched into the uninhibited vampiric smile that he could never manage as a human. This smile twisted his face into the image of unrestrained delight and optimism that often gave him away. Hermione notified him that it could give him away, and Ron notified him that it was creepy.

Harry flicked his wand around the room, adjusting its facilities and adding precautionary requirements that would ensure the room's compliance to his will and not the will of his attractive trophy.

Satisfied, Harry exited quietly, casting one last look back at Malfoy's prone form and licking his lips.

Harry had some errands to run, and Malfoy wasn't going anywhere.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 3**

The invisibility cloak was such a boon, Harry mused as he stole blood replenishing potions from the hospital wing. He could carry out his plans so easily this way.

He had already secured a food portal to the kitchens that some of the staff made use of. That way Draco wouldn't have to leave the room for food. Harry also managed to secure crates full of butterbeer and pumpkin juice, as well as a cooler of water, several bottles of Firewhiskey and a decanter of Elvin wine so that Draco could have a drink should he ever need to relax a little.

Not that Harry intended Draco to get stressed. Quite the opposite. Harry would ensure Draco's every whim was taken care of, in return for a continued imbibing of that precious blood.

So Harry would have to take care of Draco's health, hunger, thirst, needs. _Human things_, Harry's increasingly dominant vampire side noted idly, already separating himself with a label with much less rancour than he would have before.

Now that he had Draco, and he had Draco's blood to drink, and Draco's blood wouldn't be such an appealing elixir were he not a vampire, Harry felt he rather valued his supernaturalism for what it was. It seemed life as a vampire was much more appealing, and definitely worth living now that he had Draco in his possession.

Harry returned to place the healing potions in Draco's new room, noting the steady breathing that meant the boy was still asleep, taking a cursory sniff at the fragrant Malfoy before leaving the room to gather more affects.

Harry wondered idly if Draco would want any sweets, as he'd noticed over the years that the Slytherin boy had an insatiable sweet tooth, and quickly decided that an expedition to Hogsmeade may be in order when he heard someone call his name.

"Harry!"

Harry was still wearing his invisibility cloak, so technically, no one should be able to see him.

He turned to see Hermione marching in his general direction, a determined look on her face as she barrelled to where she thought Harry was standing. In her hand she held a folded bit of parchment.

Ah, the Marauder's Map. Harry must have shown up the minute he left the room of requirement.

"Harry, I know you're there. Take the damn cloak off." Hermione growled.

"Hello Hermione. You're looking pleasant." Harry said jauntily as he removed his cloak with a flourish.

"What have you done to Draco Malfoy? Where is he?" Hermione asked demandingly, ignoring Harry's cocky compliment.

"He's in the hospital wing, isn't he?" Harry questioned with a sly grin, unable to contain his joy as to the blonde's real whereabouts.

"We both know that isn't true. Harry, don't you lie to me. I saw what you did to him in class, now you should hand him back over to Slytherin before you really get in trouble!" Hermione chided him.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Harry merely smiled and continued walking down his previous path, a spring in his step as he went.

"Harry." Hermione hissed, and followed, keeping pace with him. "What did you do to him? What happened? One thing you were fighting, and then you had his finger in your mouth for God's sake, and then the next he miraculously faints and you carry him off to unknown locales."

"That does sound like a pretty accurate summary." Harry commented casually.

"Did you drink his blood? Is that what this is about? He got cut in Potions or something and you just pounced?"

"Well, I haven't pounced yet Hermione, but that is an inspiring thought." Harry mused.

Hermione rounded on Harry and purposely stood in front of him, blocking his path. "Why Harry? What made you do this? Why now, and why Malfoy? You haven't lost control yet, even when me and Ron were cut. Why did you ... _kidnap_ him?"

"I didn't lose control around you and Ron because, and I mean no offence here 'Mione, your blood doesn't compare to my Draco's. His blood is ... is the best thing that's happened to me since my transformation, so don't begrudge me that. His blood was made for me. He's mine." Harry stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"You're not going to kill him, are you?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice once she processed Harry's declaration.

"Why would I do that?" Harry's eyebrows shot up into his fringe. "I'm not going to hurt him. I'm protecting him. He's mine, and I'm keeping him safe until there's no danger that he'll leave me. He does belong with me Hermione. It's not kidnapping if he belongs to me."

"I think there's something wrong with you Harry." Hermione concluded. "You'd never do anything like this before."

"If you think there's something wrong, feel free to investigate Hermione. I know this is right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be slinking into Honeydukes. I feel like some chocolate." Harry wore a bemused expression, as if vastly impressed with his own wit.

"Harry, you can't eat chocolate." Hermione replied, her voice flat.

"We'll see." Was all Harry said before slipping back under the cloak and hastening to Hogsmeade, out of sight on the map.

Hermione's shoulders sagged. She needed to know what was going on, if not for Malfoy's sake, then for Harry.

With a resigned sigh, Hermione headed for the library.


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE SEXUAL CONTENT, DUB-CON, NON-CON, RAPE, ADULT THEMES. IF SUCH THEMES OVERWHELM OR OFFEND DO NOT READ ON.**

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 4**

Draco blinked into awareness slowly, rolling around on luxurious sheets, the fabrics brushing the silk of his pyjamas with a soft swishing noise. Wondering vaguely why he had slept through his alarm, Draco's eyes opened fully. He had to double take.

This wasn't his room.

Indeed, this ornate, voluptuous luxury was more akin to his home at Malfoy Manor than a room in Hogwarts. Though the rooms in Malfoy Manor were done up in light tones, with white and cream furnishings, not in the descriptively sinful shades of silver and black that Draco woke up in.

Everything in the room was a lush satiny black. Black velvet upholstered the chairs and lounges. Soft black carpet covered the floor. Dark woods with black lacquer made up the walls and furniture, with silver accents and trimmings finishing the effect.

The only thing that wasn't akin to the noir-ish theme was Draco's pyjamas, which were made of smooth white silk. He stood out in the midst of this midnight room like a sacrificial virgin, the bed as his altar.

Realising that thought, Draco scrambled off the bed as if it were cursed, and set about exploring the room, to discover where he was.

Sitting on the black velvet chaise several minutes later, Draco had made the following observations.

Firstly, there was no door, meaning that someone didn't want him to get out. However, although there was no door there was also no abundance of luxuries provided for him to ensure he was held captive in comfort. There was everything he needed to maintain an existence inside the room without entertaining the outside world at all.

There was no sunlight.

There were candelabras and a rather fetching chandelier, but no windows.

He could not find his robes, or any of his clothes, only the pyjamas he wore now, which meant that someone must have changed his clothes while he was sleeping.

There was also no wand.

Draco's captor must have removed it, which was highly unsettling, as without it Draco was helpless in the strange gilded prison.

Thinking back on what he could remember, there was Potions, and there was the paper cut, and there was Potter. Potter, who had been staring at him all week and who sucked at Draco's paper cut with a zealous fervour in his eyes. His resistless eyes that weakened Draco's will at a time when he should have been screaming and shouting the building down.

The man had been drinking Draco's blood after all. He'd been leeching him through a paper cut. Draco looked down to his hand again to see only smooth skin.

Ok, so he'd healed it. But Draco clearly remembered being shocked that Potter was drinking him from his paper cut. He hadn't imagined it. It was the last thing he could clearly remember before he blanked out and woke up in 'the midnight room'.

Before he woke up in the midnight room dressed in white on the virgin altar.

It was a frightening thought.

Draco pondered if the white was just for effect, or if his captor knew. It made Draco depressed to think that he would be locked in an inescapable room for eternity without having had sex.

There were so many times, so many options. That Greengrass girl was flirting with him just this morning, and then there were the countless attempts from Pansy. He was even propositioned by the boys on a regular basis, recalling attempts from Blaise and Theo and Durmstrang boys and even Marcus Flint.

That still gave Draco cause to shudder to this day.

Sadly, Draco looked back to the altar/bed. Well, it was a bed. Perhaps he'd be losing his virginity after all. Even if it wasn't on his terms.

He wondered if Potter had locked him in here. Did he mean to hurt Draco? To do things to him? During his search, Draco hadn't found any suspicious objects like riding crops and handcuffs, but one couldn't be too certain. With all the black decor it would be just typical if Draco was to be kept by a sadist.

The worry would be enough to make Draco tear up, but he'd been doing enough of that this year already.

And he'd already encountered the ultimate sadist in his holidays.

This sustained existence in the lush room was almost an appealing escape when faced with the reality.

The sobering thought of his mother in danger was enough to cut that idea down. He needed to get out of this room, at least for her sake. Father couldn't be bothered protecting her. Clearly if he cared at all he wouldn't have got himself sent to Azkaban. But Draco was determined to protect his mother; if it was the one thing he could do for her as her son.

But how to escape a room with no exits? If only Draco had his wand. He wouldn't feel so helpless.

He had noticed a large selection of alcohol at the black marble bar. Perhaps his captor intended Draco to get drunk so he could have his way with him. It was tempting to drown his sorrows in liquor, but he decided it was better to stay sharp if he had a chance of escaping.

If he found there was no escape, then he would drink himself into a stupor.

Just as Draco was contemplating his fate, a door appeared by the far wall, and a tall dark figure edged his way in holding numerous shopping bags.

Draco jumped to his feet at the sight of the door, but his hopes were dashed as the door disappeared when the person who entered closed it.

"Ah, you're awake."

Yes, it was Potter. A very bemused, unhinged looking Potter, who seemed to be smiling a little too wide for Draco's liking.

"Did you lock me in here?" Draco asked sharply, the other boy paying him no heed as he put away the shopping bags, assembling them into neat lines on the top of the side counter.

"Hrmm-yes." Potter replied absently, pouring a packet full of caramels into a black glass bowl that wasn't on the coffee table a second ago.

"Let me out." Draco demanded.

Potter merely looked at him with that damned bemused expression, and waved a caramel at him before plonking it back into the bowl. "You're cute."

Scowling, Draco pushed past Potter to examine the wall where the door had appeared. There was no secret latch, no special press. There was simply nothing where the door had been before. It was infuriating.

Draco swung back around to see Potter standing by the couch, his arm across his chest, holding one caramel and tapping it to his chin, his head cocked contemplatively.

He was observing Draco, not his actions and his obvious desire to leave, but observing his body with hungry eyes that made the blonde shiver.

"I want to leave." Draco said with a mustered confidence and bravado he didn't feel.

Potter merely ignored his request. "Would you like a caramel?"

"No, I don't want a bloody caramel, I want to leave!" Draco yelled, angry that he wasn't being heard.

"I bought them for you, you know. I can't eat caramels." Harry replied, surveying Draco with the same hungry glance.

"I hope you choke on one and die." Draco spat with unrestrained venom.

Potter smiled that creepy smile again, and merely repeated. "You're cute." This time he put down the caramel and started moving towards Draco, winding past the furniture.

His movements were uncharacteristically graceful. Sinewy and lithe, like a panther stalking prey.

It made Draco nervous.

There was something wrong with Potter. It didn't matter that he wore his same scruffy Gryffindor clothes with his same scruffy hairstyle. The glasses were gone, but that only drew attention to the piercing green of his eyes. His skin was paler than usual, but that wasn't right. It looked healthy, just white.

But he moved like a predator now, and he had a tangible aura of power and something dark that made Draco instinctively shrink away.

Draco skittered anxiously from the wall, moving away from Potter's stalk-line.

To no avail, Potter changed course easily and now was following Draco.

Herding him.

Draco didn't realise until he was backed up onto the bed.

"S-Stop Potter, stop!" Draco panicked, acutely aware that he was helpless to defend himself without a wand.

He had never learned physical fighting, as it was not proper for a pureblood, but he knew Potter had, recalling the fights they'd been in. It would be all too easy for him to overpower Draco.

"Are you nervous Draco?" Potter asked, no, purred sensuously while moving closer, encroaching on Draco's personal space.

"No." Draco answered immediately out of pride.

The pride faltered when Harry's hands shot out either side of Draco and pinned him to the bed.

"Yes! Yes damn it! I'm nervous! Now let me go, let me leave Potter!" Draco would have been mortified if he heard himself, as his words came out as a sort of panicked whine instead of the confident demand he intended.

"I'm not going to hurt you Draco." Potter said as if reproaching Draco's panic. "I'll never hurt you."

"I don't want you to do this, I want to leave!" Draco's tone dipped into imploring. He struggled a little against Potter's hold, but could tell that Potter held all the power. He was more than physically strong, Draco suddenly realised. He was dangerous.

"You can't leave now." Potter said in an eerily level voice, deliberately calm. "You have to get used to me."

"No, I don't! You can't keep me here, I need to leave! You have to let me go Potter!" Draco protested, struggling some more.

"No I don't." Harry replied, somehow pushing Draco up on the bed as he held him down.

"It's not allowed!" Draco exclaimed. His panic overrode his more sensible reasoning skills, falling back on the weakest excuse.

"I don't care. You're mine. You belong to me." Potter declared, crawling over Draco's body, keeping him pinned as he loomed over the smaller boy.

"Why?" Draco's voice came out as a whisper. He intended it to be a demand, but his body seemed to be betraying his fear, being confronted by Harry's instinctual darkness.

"Your taste was made for me." Potter replied seriously. "I'm just claiming what is mine."

It was then that Draco saw the protruding fangs. And everything clicked.

"No!" Draco cried as Harry brought his fangs closer to Draco's face. He didn't bite, instead he kissed him on the temple before moving down his face, brushing his lips and tongue over Draco's skin.

Harry pinned both of Draco's hands above his head as his free hand flew down the buttons of Draco's pyjamas, pushing the silken shirt off his torso and up his arms, releasing Draco briskly to tug the shirt away.

With free arms Draco pushed futilely against Potter's chest to no avail, then proceeded to try to scramble away, only to find Potter's quick hands pinning him back onto the bed.

"I'd hoped you'd cooperate." Potter said, aiming a crooked grin down at Draco.

"You're a vampire!" Draco replied, his voice shaken with fear.

"I won't hurt you." Potter tried to reassure Draco. "I just need to claim what's mine."

"Don't Potter! Don't do this to me. I don't want this!" Draco was bordering on hysterical now; he was being pinned by a _vampire_!

"I can't stand the thought of anyone else touching what is mine. No one else will have you again once I've claimed you." Potter nearly growled with possessiveness.

"No one has had me! No one has touched me! Please Potter, don't do this!" Draco was pleading with tears in his eyes, quivering with fear.

Draco's words caused Potter to pause. "No one's had you?" He questioned, his expression quizzical.

Draco looked desperately up at his captor, wondering if he divulged his virgin status the beast would let him go.

"You're ... a virgin?" Potter asked again, affirming it.

"Yes!" Draco gasped, unable to stop one desperate tear leaking from his eye. "Please, let me go!"

"Oh." Potter drew back, still straddling Draco but no longer pinning him, looking at him with interest mixed with sheepishness. "Oh, right. Of course this is frightening for you then. I shouldn't have put so much pressure on you. We needed to talk first. I shouldn't have just pounced on you. I can see that now." Potter muttered quickly.

Draco blinked up at him, his brows drawing together in confusion. Potter kidnapped him, what did he care if he frightened Draco in the process.

"If no one but me has touched you then it's up to me to make your first time special." Potter decided with the euphoric grin, delight etched all over his face.

"Wha – No!" Draco spluttered.

"Yes!" Potter grinned. "It's got to be memorable, a really good memory for you. We'll be spending the rest of our lives together after all. I want you to be able to look back on this in awe."

"Wha – The rest of our lives? Are you _insane_?" Draco screeched.

Potter seemed unconcerned with Draco's protestations and swept down, grabbing Draco's face and pulling it up, planting a cheerful kiss right on his lips.

"Mmrrph!" Draco's eyes shot open as he tried to pull away. Potter had _fangs _for Merlin's sake!

"There's no need to struggle." Potter looked at him as if he were a misbehaving child. "It's just a kiss."

"A kiss with a _vampire_!" Draco pointed out as if it was significantly different.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" Harry smiled before smacking his lips on Draco's once more, pressing softly against his mouth.

Draco's eyes were open. He tried struggling again out of Potter's grasp but Potter had a firm grip on Draco's head and wouldn't let go. It didn't seem like he was having any trouble holding him either, as he had the apparent dexterity to stroke Draco's hair and face with his thumbs while keeping Draco pinned.

Draco would have struggled longer, but failed when Harry opened his eyes. His blazing green eyes that were mere centimetres away from Draco's.

Once more, inexplicably Draco found himself bending to Potter's will, moving his mouth with the kiss, accepting the intrusion of Potter's tongue, no longer pushing away but curling his arms up around Potter's neck.

And Potter's kiss was so fierce and determined, yet gentle and caring all at the same time. Draco felt he was being snogged into the mattress.

Draco was pliant and light headed when Potter pulled away.

"There, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Potter wore a teasing smile, thankfully showing no hint of fang.

"Hmmm?" Draco hummed vaguely, still lost in the thrall of Potter's eyes.

"Now, I'll go slow, and I promise to be gentle. And I promise that this will be the most pleasurable experience you'll have ever felt. You won't feel any pain." Harry murmured in a gentle crooning voice, before pressing more soft kisses to Draco's face.

"Mmrh, pain?" Draco's forehead furrowed slightly in the midst of his enforced calm.

"No pain." Harry pressed another kiss to Draco's lips before he set to work.

Draco barely noticed anything. His mind was flooded with a bizarre sense of peace and pleasure.

He could vaguely see Potter undressing and feel Potter disrobe him and put his hands all over Draco's body, but it seemed dreamlike, like it was happening to someone else.

Potter's hands touched Draco in places he'd never been touched before, stroking and kissing and stretching. But Draco's mind didn't connect that the person arching and writhing and making kittenish moans of pleasure in response to those talented fingers was him.

It couldn't be, right? Because Draco would never do that. Because he hated Potter, and Potter kidnapped him, and Potter was a vampire.

When Potter's cock thrust into Draco a white shot of sensation spiked through Draco's mind, bringing him down from his cloud of pleasure. Draco screamed.

"Shh shh shh, it's ok. It's ok. It gets better. I promise. Just look at me. Look into my eyes." Potter hurriedly muttered, his fleshy body covering Draco's.

Draco panted and sobbed, his body hot and flushed, a throbbing pain causing his eyes to water. Potter's skin was all over Draco's skin. He felt frightened and squashed and claustrophobic. The pressing feeling of flesh all around him, Potter's flesh within him, sweaty and heavy, completely foreign and unfamiliar.

"Look at me Draco. Look at me." Potter urged.

"No." Draco sobbed. "No, no, no, no." His voice broke and wobbled as tears trickled down his cheeks. It was hard to adjust to the burning inside him. To the feeling of being filled by Potter's thick length. It hurt. Graciously Potter stilled for him, trying to help him overcome the pain rather than just driving into him regardless.

"Look Draco. Look. I promise I'll make it better." Harry ceased his attempts to soothe Draco by peppering kisses on his chest, instead grabbing his chin and tilting his head to look into Harry's green eyes, now tinged with concern. Draco's teary eyes fixed on Harry's, the panic tangible in his gaze. Harry desperately willed pleasure back into his partner.

Draco's eyes dimmed back to lucidity and Harry checked several times that Draco was fine, satisfied when he was relaxed enough to respond to some of his kisses. The scent of his body seeping sweat and fluids was almost as enticing as his blood. Harry pulled out and slowly pushed back in, feeling Draco tight around him.

The blonde responded, panting again and even breathing a soft moan when Harry changed the angle. Aiming for Draco's prostate in a concerted effort to bring him pleasure Harry pistoned his hips swiftly. Draco was moaning and crying with pleasure now, his eyes bright with an awareness that told Harry that Draco's responses were his own. Harry grasped his cock, stroking it to full hardness.

The frenzied moans that were building informed Harry that Draco was close to orgasm.

Fangs protruding, Harry fastidiously licked Draco's neck, willing the saliva into a numbing agent so Draco would feel nothing when he bit. Nothing but the pleasure of his orgasm. Draco's voice crescendo-ed, his repeated "Ah!" getting louder and longer, stretching out into a lyrical "Ahhhhhhhhh!"

Harry's hand fisted around Draco's cock just as he clamped his mouth onto Draco's neck and bit.

Draco came screaming in pleasure this time, his hips bucking and his hands scrabbling over Harry's back as he did so. The clenching of his passage, combined with the ambrosial gush of the thick liquid in Harry's mouth was enough to send him over the edge too, a sinful groan sounding around the mouthful of blood.

Seconds ticked by with only the heavenly throb of the pulsing delicious blood sent to Harry by a settling heartbeat that was racing at the point of orgasm. A rumbling purr radiated from Harry's chest, the inherent sense of rightness making him content. It felt right to be doing this. Swallowing mouthfuls of the magical blood while Draco lay panting beneath him.

And he could do this all the time now, because Harry had made sure Draco was his, and he'd be here for whenever Harry wanted him.

Harry drew away from the wound, closing it up slightly. Still allowing two small dots to well up so he could lap at them contentedly. He sat up for a moment to look at his Draco only to see the blonde hiding his face in his hands, his cheeks blushing red.

"Draco, was that ok?" Harry crooned softly, stroking one of the hands that covered his trophy's face.

"No." Draco moaned, his voice thick with embarrassment. "I hate you."

"Why?" Harry asked softly, still stroking him with satisfaction.

"You bit me." Came Draco's sulky reply.

"I know." Harry sighed happily. "It was brilliant."

Draco moved his hands to glare angrily at Harry. "It's not brilliant. It's horrible."

"But it didn't hurt, did it?" Harry questioned, already knowing the answer.

"It did." Draco insisted stubbornly.

Harry dropped his head to lick at Draco's neck before speaking again. "Ah, but _this_ didn't hurt."

"But you did hurt me." Draco pouted. "When you ..."

"I'm sorry for that." Harry crooned. "But I did prepare you before, so it shouldn't have hurt all that much."

"You lied to me." Draco scowled and shuffled away from Harry on the bed.

"Hmmm?" Harry looked up, bemused in a way that his precious lover was moving away from him.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt me." Draco's glare was accusing as he edged further away from Harry.

"I promised to go gentle, and I promised there would be pleasure. I also promised it would get better and it did. Those were the only promises I made." Harry said with a cloying smile, cocking his head as if Draco's antics amused him. "You'll enjoy it more next time."

"There won't be a next time!" Draco got off the bed and tried to contain a wince as he stood up. His voice was still trembling, but filled with a strong determination. "I won't let you rape me again!"

"Rape?" Harry frowned, the first negative expression that had graced his face since he first smelt Draco's blood. "I didn't rape you."

"Yes you did." Draco grabbed the white silk trousers from the floor, cringing as his muscles protested when he bent down. "I said no, and you didn't listen. You didn't stop until you were satisfied."

"No, no, no. I was making sure you were satisfied. That's why I kept going. You're going to have to like it if we'll be doing this every day." Harry said sincerely, and oddly enough, he was sincere.

Draco limped over to the wall where the door had been, clad in the white silk trousers, his body slick with sweat and come, a small dribble of blood running down his neck.

"Let me out." He demanded.

"But you're all sticky." Harry smiled adoringly at Draco as if he were a cute, messy toddler.

"Let me out!" Draco shouted, shaking with rage.

"You're not feeling well." Harry cooed, getting up off the bed and crossing the room in one languid movement. "Here, sit down and I'll look after you."

"No! I want you to let me go!" Draco yelled again, hitting the wall with his fist.

"Draco." Harry said, chiding. "You belong to me now. You're not going out until you love me and accept that you're mine."

"Love you?" Draco's voice shot up incredulously. "Look Potter, I don't know how things work in vampire world, but I am a wizard! A pureblood wizard! I have rights. You do not kidnap and rape a pureblood wizard. I am not your plaything."

"You're mine." Harry insisted. "Your blood was made for me."

"No it wasn't! Is this – is this a thing for purebloods or just for Malfoys? Or do you have Weasley locked up in a cupboard somewhere? I am not going to be playing your game, just so you know. Someone will find out about this. Someone will come for me. My Father –"

"No one can find this place." Harry cut him off. "No one can enter this place without my permission, nor can they exit." Harry emphasised this with a pointed look. "If someone comes to find you there will be nothing they can do. They can't take you away from me. You are mine. You are legitimately mine."

"No I'm not Potter! Let me go!" Draco wailed despairingly.

"Why don't you come over here and I'll run you a bath and we can relax a little, alright?" Harry's voice was calming and convincing and Draco found himself unwittingly taking a step towards him. He froze and corrected himself.

"No. Don't you use your vampire mind tricks on me Potter. It's not fair." Draco scowled at him.

"It helps you relax. You liked it before." Harry pointed out.

"I would _never _have let you touch me before. Stop it and let me go." Draco hissed vehemently.

"Draco, you're just going to have to accept that you aren't leaving here. Accept that you're set for an indefinite stay and you'll have to get used to me." Harry stated calmly.

"But I need to get out! There's something I have to do. I can't just –"

"Tell me what it is and I'll do it for you." Harry said swiftly, cutting him off.

Draco inhaled a sharp breath as if considering it. "No. I have to do it myself."

"Either I do it for you, or you don't do it. It's that simple." Harry crossed his arms and sat down on the black velvet lounge, staring at him.

"But I need to do it. Potter, my mother –" Draco whined.

"Tell me what it is and I'll do it for you." Harry repeated, this time with his eyes fixed firmly on the blonde willing him to tell the truth.

Draco's words came out in a gush.

"I have to kill Dumbledore for the Dark Lord or he's going to kill my mother... You bastard!" Draco scowled at Potter for tricking him again.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"You're not going out." Harry declared.

"But, my mother –"

"If you like I'll see to it that she's kept somewhere safe." Harry continued his voice still stern, his eyes still narrowed.

"But he said he'd kill me –"

"Even more reason not to let you out. You think I'd risk you like that?"

"But – I don't want to stay with you. If I can't leave, why can't you leave?" Draco's shoulders sagged dejectedly.

"You don't want me here?" Potter asked, paying attention for once to what Draco was saying.

"I just – if I can't leave I at least want to be alone." Draco concluded, hoping that this would at least get the vampire to leave.

Harry strode over to where Draco stood by the wall and ran his hands down the boy's shoulders comfortingly. Draco's body was stiff and rigid for a moment and just as quickly the tension faded as if Draco were berating himself for being scared. Licking the puncture marks on Draco's neck clean, Harry willed them to heal.

"There. I wouldn't want you hurting because of me." Harry murmured against Draco's neck, delighting for a moment to see the blonde shiver, but frowning again, his mood changing in an instant when he realised Draco was shivering because he was afraid of Harry.

Rubbing his shoulders again, Harry pulled Draco into a tight hug, inhaling a deep drag of his lover's fragrant scent before pressing a kiss on his forehead. When Draco looked up at him his eyes were wide, confused and beseeching.

"I'll come back to see you again tonight." Harry said, tenderly brushing a hand down Draco's cheek. Displaying his vampiric aptitude for wandless magic Harry quickly cleaned and dressed himself.

"_Scourgify. Id Vestum_."

He saw Draco's shoulders sag as the blonde realised there would be no wand for him to steal.

"The box in the kitchen is a linking portal to the school kitchens. Just tell it what you want and the food will appear in the box. I bought clothes and sweets for you from Hogsmeade and if you want to read anything in particular the books should materialise on the shelf." Harry informed Draco with a saddened expression. He looked longingly at Draco once more and sighed. "While I'm out I'll see what I can do for your mum."

Draco was frowning at Harry as if something troubled him. It was probably Harry's prolonged presence. With that Harry paced across the room to the wall opposite the one he'd entered through.

"Goodbye Draco." Harry waited for a while, testing to see if he'd get a 'goodbye' back, but clearly that was not to happen yet.

Sighing again, Harry willed the room to present him with a door and he walked out swiftly, seeing Malfoy gasp and lunge for the door from the corner of his eye.

The door shut before he could reach it and Harry watched it disappear from the corridor wall.

"All things considered." Harry muttered to himself. "That could have gone better."


	5. Chapter 5

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 5**

Draco didn't know how long he stood there staring at the wall in disbelief. Probably longer than was proper to be standing in come soaked pyjamas.

Looking down at himself in disgust he realised that he was still covered in the sticky fluids and made a sudden mad dash to the bathroom area.

He saw the bath was already full and so flung away the pyjama trousers and began washing himself thoroughly. He stayed in the bath longer than necessary, although his skin didn't wrinkle; such was the magic of enchanted baths.

Nor would the water go any hotter than a safely warm temperature, which was frustrating as really Draco wanted to scald his skin off.

He was so angry. How could he have lost control like that? It is hard to have the upper hand when being held captive in a magical room, true, but he was sure he had more strength then to just succumb to Potter's manipulations.

His father would be so ashamed of him, and his mother – what would his mother say.

"_Oh my poor Draco. Of course you couldn't do anything. It's not every day you get kidnapped and eaten by an insane and possibly sadistic vampire. There, there honey. You can cry. Mummy will make it all better."_

Draco snorted. It would be just like his mum to say that. Half patronising, half intensely coddling. She still treated him like he was her baby boy.

Although, usually when she said she would make something all better, the cause of Draco's problems would end up incurably hexed with some nasty untraceable ailment.

Potter said he would help his mother. Did he really mean it?

_It would be humorous if Potter were to rescue Mother in efforts to woo me_, Draco thought, _only to have her hex him with a bad case of fang rot for his troubling me._

It would serve him right.

Draco irritably stepped out of the tub and wrapped himself in one of the fluffy (virginally white) towels nearby and meandered over to the shopping bags Potter had placed on the counter, hoping to get dressed so at least his clothes would be a barrier between his body and Potter.

Pawing through the bags, Draco scowled. White shirt here, ivory robes there, cream trousers here. Was the moron obsessed with dressing him in white? By all means, he traditionally shouldn't wear white now.

He wouldn't even be able to wear white robes at his wedding (although that was a particularly old custom).

Damn Potter for using his damning vampiric powers to steal Draco's damn virginity then persist to make him dress in these _damnable white clothes_!

Grumbling as he picked out the least offensive clothes, Draco ambled round the room for a while longer. The mirror in the bathroom came in handy for a while as Draco spent a good half an hour examining the absence of a bite mark on his neck, wondering (not marvelling) how smooth and completely healed the skin was. It was healed more perfectly than any wizard could heal.

_I wonder how many vampires work at St Mungo's._ Draco paused, irritated.

He really had to stop thinking rageless thoughts about his vampiric captor. Every fibre of his being should be directed towards detesting Potter for what he did to him.

_For what he'd probably do again when he comes back tonight._

This thought caused Draco's body to shiver and the dull ache in his muscles to intensify.

That was his first experience of sex. And that sex was with a boy (no, not a boy, a vampiric fiend). It was different than Draco expected.

True, he wasn't adverse to the thought of his first sexual experience being with a boy. In fact, the incredibly platonic way Draco viewed girls like Pansy who hung onto his every word like it was a ticket to his pants, was probably an indicator of how much he didn't mind.

But whether Draco expected he'd be with a boy or a girl, he had expected to be the one in charge.

He had never felt so helpless.

It was also disconcerting how aroused he was getting at the mere remembrance of the act.

Despite the pain at the beginning, it did get better, to the point of being unbearably pleasurable. Merlin, Draco actually screamed as he came!

_And what's worse._ Draco blushed, hiding his red face in his hands_. Is that the bite felt even better._

Looking up into the mirror again, the boy with the soft white clothing, the pink flushed cheeks, bright grey eyes and tousled blonde hair stared openly back at him.

Draco was actually looking better for having a vampire bite him. The pale unhealthy pallor he had worn due to stress had been replaced with a healthy glow.

_Maybe this is that post-sex afterglow one hears so much about_. Draco recalled Pansy quoting several Witches Weekly articles at him that said something of a similar ilk. _Was it the sex or the bite that did this to me?_

Draco idled around the lounge room and picked up a caramel, chewing it slowly. This whole situation was peculiar. Eating sweets in an inescapable room in which just an hour ago Draco was raped by Harry Potter who was suddenly a vampire. It was absurd.

The anger bubbled up in Draco once more. _What am I doing sitting here munching on a toffee like a well behaved pet? This is what Potter wants after all. I'll be damned if I make this easy for him._

And with that, Draco upturned the sleek black coffee table and went on a rampage.


	6. Chapter 6

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 6**

Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, having stowed his invisibility cloak away in his bag and was met by a curious welcoming party.

"Harry." Headmaster Dumbledore was seated in one of the red chairs by the fire, around him sat a concerned looking Remus Lupin, an irate Professor Snape, Ron and Hermione looking worriedly at him from over a pile of books, and several apprehensive looking people that Harry assumed were from the school board.

"Good evening sir." Harry greeted him respectfully.

"Harry, we're here about Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore clarified.

"Potter, if you have harmed one hair on his head I will personally see to it that the might of the ministry is brought down on your head, whatever that might may be." Snape drawled, menace oozing from his voice, surprisingly his scowl was directed to the school board officiates.

"Now Mr Snape, the law is quite clear on this matter." A meek looking official said before flinching away from the potions' master's glare.

"What law?" Harry asked brusquely, his eyes narrowing in a way that made the board members flinch. "You won't take Draco away from me." His voice had a growling undertone that caused the hairs on one's neck to stand on end.

"T-There's no need to jump to such s-serious conclusions Mr Potter. No one here is going to separate you from your chosen mate." The meek official quivered.

"Oh." Harry's shoulders relaxed and a happy smile spread across his face. "Well, that's alright then." He strode over to the couch next to Ron and Hermione and settled happily on the cushions. "Hey guys." He nodded happily to his friends.

"Hey mate." Ron croaked.

"You're looking happy Harry." Hermione observed, squinting accusingly at her friend.

"I am." Harry said simply with a beatific smile.

"Harry, there is a rather serious concern for the state of Draco's welfare though." Lupin approached Harry calmly, walking up to his couch. "These men are just here to insure that he's ok."

"Oh, he's fine." Harry waved assuring his werewolf compatriot. "Cranky but fine. He just woke up."

"I see." The school board members exchanged nervous glances. They then sent an urging look to Lupin again, hoping he would handle the tricky questions with the nonchalant vampire.

"Will he be attending classes anytime soon?" Lupin asked, tactfully presenting both concerns of whether he was seriously injured and whether he was to be held captive much longer.

Harry grimaced, a look which caused concern for many of the board members. "No, not for a while at least. I haven't asked him if he wants to continue studying. I hadn't considered how this would affect his schoolwork."

"Ah." Lupin looked back at the board members and they shrugged. One of them motioned to their mouths.

"If you want to ask me something, I suggest you speak up and ask it yourselves." Harry said loudly, not looking at the board members.

"Harry, mate." Ron spoke up this time, looking a little green. "What have you done to Malfoy?"

"Nothing much." Harry replied evasively, fiddling with the cuff of his jumper.

"Did you claim him?" Hermione asked in a strong voice. Harry looked up to meet her determined eyes.

"If you must know, yes." Harry answered in a clipped voice. He then chose to add an extra piece of information, if only to assuage Hermione's thirst for knowledge. "I don't think it went very well though."

"What do you mean it didn't go very well?" Ron looked like he was going to be sick.

"Claim?" Professor Snape asked in a tremulous voice, hoping that the explanation would not be unsavoury.

"When a vampire claims their mate the process usually involves a direct imbibing of their blood and bodily sexual possession." Hermione recited, her eyes still strong and focused on Harry.

"He didn't." Snape scowled threateningly.

"Draco says he hates me." Harry's expression quickly turned morose as he moaned miserably.

"Well, that's not exactly a change." Hermione pointed out.

"I don't want him to hate me." Harry added, sounding like he'd had a sudden epiphany.

"That is a change." Ron added, frowning disconcertedly at his best friend.

Snape and Dumbledore were engaged in a whispered yet heated argument.

"I won't just stand here and do nothing while he's doing God knows what to my godson!"

"Severus, the risks are too great. We have a castle of students to protect, a whole town. Draco will not come to any real harm. Harry will protect him with his life, such is the nature of his condition."

"So we are to force Draco to put up with this abuse?"

"Severus, I am merely saying that we take as many precautionary measures as we can to ensure both Draco's safety and the safety of the students."

"The whole school pretty much figured out you were a vampire." Ron informed his friend with an apologetic shrug.

"The Slytherins kicked up a fuss when you took Draco away from Potions and he never came back." Hermione added.

"I don't care anymore." Harry sighed.

"A lot of people want to leave the school. They're afraid you'll drink their blood." Hermione informed him.

"I don't care about their blood. Only Draco's." Harry's sigh was nostalgic this time.

"Pansy Parkinson was trying to rally up a hunter to get you staked." Ron snorted, finding the funny side for his friend.

"Ha, they can try." Harry laughed. "Stupid Parkinson. I won't ever let her near Draco."

"Getting a bit jealous now, are we?" Hermione probed with a smile.

"He's mine." Harry replied as if it were self explanatory.

Ron did not look totally repulsed, so Harry took it that Hermione had explained to him what to expect beforehand.

"Er, good for you." Ron mustered and smiled weakly.

Harry looked at him, an amused smile on his face once more. "You don't mind? I haven't properly broken up with Ginny yet."

"I'm actually pretty glad you're not biting my sister, no offence." Ron gave a crooked grin to his friend. Harry smiled in response, then looked at the girls staircase.

"I'll have to go talk to her then." Harry decided. He then blinked. "Where is everyone?"

"On lockdown in the dorms." Hermione said. "It was actually pretty important to grab you here. People have been going a bit mad knowing that they've been sharing their dorms with a vampire."

"What's the big deal? I'm still the same Harry." Harry grumbled.

"It's not you, it's what you are." Hermione informed him with sympathy. "Ron explained it to me. Wizarding children hear about vampires and werewolves the same way muggle children hear about monsters and the bogeyman. It doesn't matter that they can be decent people like you and Remus; they've grown up having you in their nightmares."

"Oh." Harry said dejectedly, then covered his face with his hands. "Oh, I'm such an idiot!"

"What?" Ron questioned comfortingly.

"Draco. He was probably terrified." Harry moaned.

"Well, you did say you bit him." Ron inclined his head. "When you have a go at the bag thing it does look pretty scary."

"But I didn't hurt him." Harry insisted, seeing his friend's dubious looks. "I didn't! Look, I'll show you." Harry moved forward and suddenly everyone in the room, barring Ron and Hermione, had their wands trained on him.

"Harry, from experience, let me tell you that the school cannot allow you to bite someone on school grounds." Lupin warned him.

"What about Draco?" Harry asked, the dangerous glint back in his eye.

"Yes." Snape scowled at the Headmaster and members of the school board. "What about Draco?"

"Er, that's a special case." The reedy board member laughed nervously.

Harry seemed satisfied, then curious. "Why?"

"Wizarding law, in accordance to vampire lore and ritual, state that it is both highly illegal, and can be considered a terrorist threat to interfere with a vampire and it's mate in any way shape or form. The law includes physical separation, magical interference and interference with the consumption of blood, on the reason that the protective bond engendered by the mate's blood can render the vampire possessive, territorial and extremely violent should they consider any action a threat to their possession of their mate." The board member read from his papers in a clear reading voice.

"Well, that's excellent!" Harry exclaimed with a grin.

"We thought you'd say that." Hermione said with a wry smile. "Although it doesn't seem entirely fair to Malfoy."

"Why would you say that?" Harry queried in a deliberately innocent voice.

"I can see from his perspective that he would want to be set free, given his independence. But the reason that law is in place is because historically speaking certain vampires have been known to slaughter entire cities if someone threatens to separate them from their mate. But that's ridiculous really, as I doubt you would slaughter and kill anyone Harry." Hermione smiled reassuringly at Harry. "I mean, you hate even the thought of natural hunting, you feed from a potion after all. You're our Harry, you wouldn't hurt people for no reason like that." Hermione surmised.

Harry smiled back at Hermione. "That's really reassuring Hermione, and I wouldn't want to hurt anyone for no reason."

The adults in the room gave a collective sigh.

"But if anyone came between me and Draco I would kill them in the most painful way possible." Harry continued in the same tone of voice, as if he were discussing the weather.

"H-Harry..." Hermione's face dropped, as though she expected her friend to be above that sort of behaviour.

"Although I doubt anything like that will be necessary as I have Draco locked away in a very secure location at the moment." Harry continued with a sly smile.

"I see." Snape's lip curled as he narrowed his beady eyes. "Could you clarify the whereabouts of this _location_?"

"You wouldn't be able to get in, even if I did tell you." Harry replied with a careless glance at the irate professor. "My magic's improved greatly. Even the castle obeys my will now."

"Tell me Harry." Dumbledore began amicably, heedless of the fuming potions master. "Have you noticed much of a significant change in your magic?"

Harry smiled at the headmaster's politely worded question. "Yes actually. I can do wandless now, and I can heal things really well. Also, I think it's dependant on eye contact but I can impress my will on others if that makes sense. And I'm pretty sure if I don't take too much that my bite improves physical health. I mean, I've only tried these things out on Draco so I can't be sure, but now I have him I feel really powerful you know. Like I can do anything."

"Hmmm." Dumbledore stroked his beard contemplatively. "Well then. I see no further problems here. You may chat to your friends and return to Mr Malfoy should you choose, but I request that you meet with me in my office tomorrow to organise some sort of health check for Mr Malfoy's safety."

Harry frowned as Snape spluttered with indignation. "He's perfectly safe with me, and I've made sure he has every accommodation for his health."

"It is a legal process that Mr Malfoy has a right to. We just need to ensure a third party meets with him to conduct the necessary tests and check on his welfare requirements. You may choose the third party if it is amenable to you Harry." Dumbledore clarified, waving his hand absently at Severus' livid face.

"Oh." Harry paused. "Alright then. I'll think on it and meet with you tomorrow. May I talk to Ron and Hermione now?"

"Certainly. We will leave you to it then." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled cheerily.

"Ah, Mr Potter, we only request that you stay in the common room with your friends and inform the school portraits when you leave so we may revoke the lockdown." The school board member spoke as if he were reading his request from his sheaf of legal parchment.

Harry gave a perfunctory nod and ignored the group as they exited the common room. The portraits on the walls all regarded him with curiosity, but Harry was solely focused on his friends. When the portrait clicked shut Harry posited his question.

"So, what do you guys think?"

"What do we think?" Ron puzzled. "What are we supposed to think? You're still the same Harry, and we already know about your fangy problem."

"Well I think that what you did was extremely irresponsible." Hermione lectured. "Although I accept that a certain amount of what you did was driven on instinct, but taking Malfoy out of class like that and exposing yourself, not to mention the kidnapping and the fact that instinct or no, you're holding him against his will, is just not right. It's not like you Harry."

"I know it's not like me Hermione. But I haven't been me since I was changed." Harry exclaimed.

"Yes you have. I would have noticed if you changed."

"Not if I didn't want you to notice. Hermione, who are you more likely to accept? Your old friend Harry with an inconvenient problem, or your old friend Harry whose life, world view, powers and perspective have completely changed thanks to something he no longer views as a problem?"

"Well it's not a problem, it's manageable."

"No Hermione. It's always been a problem for all of us, and I thought so too until I found Draco. But now that I have him I can accept what I am. I feel good about what I am. If I wasn't this way I'd never know about Draco's blood or how amazing it makes me feel."

"Just because you have Draco's blood now, it doesn't mean you can forget yourself and be ... be dangerous." Hermione emphasised.

"Hermione." Harry said in a softer voice. "I'm not dangerous."

"Harry, what you essentially did to Malfoy was rape." Hermione replied.

"It wasn't rape!" Harry threw his hands in the air angrily. "He belongs to me so it wasn't rape!"

"Did he see it the same way I wonder?" Hermione queried in the same strong voice, completely oblivious to the perils of enraging a vampire. Ron was aware, and was tugging Hermione's jumper in warning.

"He's just not used to me, that's all. He just needs some time." Harry insisted.

"Well I don't see you spending time with him now." Hermione pointed out.

"He told me to go away." Harry mumbled dejectedly. "He said he wanted to be alone."

"You left him alone?" Hermione's voice rose in concern. "Harry, why would you do that?"

"What? I was listening to him. I wanted to make him feel better." Harry replied, puzzled.

"I don't think that would make me feel better. What about his other partners? I doubt they leave him after sex." Hermione frowned.

"He hasn't had any other partners." Harry said, a twinge of pride in his voice.

"What? He's a virgin?" Ron questioned disbelievingly.

Harry nodded then smiled ruefully. "Well, he was."

"Well, you can't leave him alone!" Hermione chastised Harry. "If that was his first time, having sex, which he would see as rape, with not just a boy but with a vampire! Harry, he's probably freaking out right now. You don't know what he could do."

"Oh. Oh shit!" Harry realised, springing up from the couch.

"Are there any sharp objects in the room mate?" Ron asked, contributing pragmatically.

"Not really, I mean there are vases and glasses. Oh god, what if he breaks a glass?" Harry muttered frantically, his long legs already pacing to the door of the common room.

"He could have cut himself by accident." Ron surmised.

"Cut hi –" Harry zoned out for a moment, envisioning his Draco amidst a pile of rubble, tears running down his cheeks and blood oozing from his skin, staining those white silk pyjamas. His fangs protruded at the thought. He didn't know if it was possible for vampires to drool, but he was close to doing exactly that.

"Oh, snap out of it Harry." Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. "He could have hurt himself. You should be worrying about his safety. He's your mate."

"Yeah, you can't have him bleeding to death before the month is even up." Ron added, having listened to Hermione's research about the bonding month, the full moon cycle that would effectively cement Malfoy to Harry magically through a dependency blood ritual. Once Harry kept Malfoy as a private possession from which he could sate himself both physically and sexually, and the moon had done a complete cycle, Harry could let Malfoy go if he so chose and Malfoy would still come back to him when Harry wished it. It was an instinctual vampiric reaction to finding one's mate.

"Right. I've got to go." Harry said decisively. "Oh, and I need to speak to Dumbledore, so will you tell him I'll be with Draco. I have to arrange something for Draco's mum."

"Fine, Harry, but be careful." Hermione fretted.

With that Harry raced out of the common room in a blur of movement.

"Do you reckon the portraits would see that?" Ron pondered.

"I suppose we'll have to go tell them." Hermione said with a sigh.


	7. Chapter 7

_The Trophy Room_

**Chapter 7**

Draco stood amongst the piles of desiccated paper in the room's ebony library. It seemed a bit excessive for the room to have its own library. Even more shocking, there were books in a room Potter arranged, and they weren't all about Quidditch. Not that it mattered anymore, as the books were in tatters on the floor.

Draco huffed in frustration and pushed his fringe back off his face.

_This would be so much simpler with a slicing charm, so much more satisfying. _Draco thought mildly.

But mild thoughts wouldn't do, oh no. Draco was having trouble maintaining a destructive rampage without magic. Rampaging the muggle way took effort! Draco would have stopped for a break every few minutes if he hadn't upturned the couch. He found himself snacking on the caramels Potter bought, just to give himself a hit of sugar to keep his energy up.

The decadent black bed would have been tempting for a rest, were it not the scene of Draco's defilement. As it turns out, sex takes a lot of energy out of you, and if Draco weren't so busy rampaging he would probably take a nap.

Surprisingly, it was the effort it took to think angry thoughts that was most tiring for Draco. He'd never had trouble thinking angry thoughts before. Now he kept having to remind himself why he was angry each time he paused, usually panting and worked up into a complete lack of decorum, and wondered why he bothered.

So far he hadn't broken anything that could cause him harm though. Draco didn't much like the thought of being injured or incapacitated when Potter came back for him.

Judging by the way Potter practically flew into the room to check Draco over, the vampire probably expected to see Draco covered in torrents of his own blood. Potter looked slightly disappointed when he saw Draco was fine.

"You're not hurt." Potter frowned, puzzled.

"Let go of me." Draco scowled, shrugging Potter's hands off his shoulders.

"What happened to your room?" Harry asked.

"It was ravaged by a magical cyclone. What do you think happened?" Draco backed away from the concerned vampire, again reminding himself to be angry.

"I was worried about you. Why did you break everything?" Harry stepped forward, again invading Draco's personal space.

"Because I don't want to be here." Draco said, his tone indicating how stupid he thought Harry's question was. "I would think it would be obvious."

"You're just not used to this." Harry said, waving his hand casually. With the wave, the destroyed furniture reassembled and righted, effectively undoing Draco's previous hour and a half of anger-fuelled effort. "If you relax more you may just enjoy your time with me."

Seeing his destructive masterpiece banished with a careless wave, Draco found it easy to call upon his fluctuating anger.

"What the hell did you do that for! Do you know how hard it is to destroy a room without magic?" Draco fumed, his face flushing indignantly.

Harry blinked, then his lips stretched once again into the emphatically bemused expression. Grinning at his charge, his arms shot out to wrap tightly around the blonde, pulling him to Harry's chest with no wiggle room to escape.

"You're cute." Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to Draco's blonde head of hair. Draco stiffened when his captor grabbed him, but reacted upon hearing the familiar endearment, twisting and pulling his body from the vampire's grip, trying in vain to evade the hug.

"Let go of meee!" Draco whinged.

"Apparently I was wrong to leave you alone today." Harry told Draco, blissfully ignoring his protesting struggles. "You must have been feeling vulnerable, and needed someone to talk to. If I talked to you sooner and made myself clear you wouldn't have been so afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of _you_ Potter." Draco mumbled snidely into Harry's shoulder.

"Good. You should love me, not fear me."

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes at how falsely dramatic Potter sounded. "I don't love you either." He griped.

The Gryffindor merely tightened his arms around the blonde and hugged him fiercely, as if crushing the love into Draco. The blonde's struggles had stopped, but that didn't mean Harry's plan was working.

"You're suffocating me Potter." Draco's voice was muffled through the fabric of Harry's chest, his arms hanging limply in the embrace, resigning himself to it in a way, although he swore quite vehemently earlier that he would never allow the Gryffindor to touch him again.

Leading Draco to the lounge room, once again in perfect order right down to the onyx bowl of caramels on the coffee table, Harry ushered his prize onto the couch. Gentle hands and fingers organized Draco's limbs as though he were a rag doll. The blonde merely glared at his captor, regaining his breath surreptitiously as he did so.

Harry arranged himself next to Draco on the couch, making effort to depict a casual and non threatening posture. His eyebrows were tilted into what Harry imagined was the expression of a 'concerned listener'.

"Are you mentally ill?" Draco questioned caustically.

"No. Why?" Harry replied, his tilted brows knotting together.

Draco buried his face in his hands. Harry took this as a cue to sweep Draco into his arms again.

"See, I knew you were feeling vulnerable. You must have been lonely, in here all by yourself. Is that why you tore apart the room? You can tell me." Harry uttered soothingly, stroking Draco's hair.

"You have got to be the dumbest vampire I've ever had the displeasure of meeting, Potter." Draco mumbled into Harry's chest, the absurdness of the situation overwhelming him.

"Met many vampires, have you?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he picked up on the snark in his trophy's tone. Draco scowled and said nothing, unwilling to admit that his first encounter with a vampire was at a children's party and had him wetting his pants. It would not do to recall such a thing.

Harry shifted, trying to catch Draco's eye, but Draco scowled and edged away, looking to the floor.

"This vampire thing is really bothering you, isn't it?" Harry questioned in a soft voice. Draco's cheeks fused with colour, embarrassed that Potter was now pitying him on top of everything else.

"Hey, I'm still the same Harry Potter you know and love." Harry pressed with a jaunty grin.

"Knew and loathed." Draco replied stubbornly.

"And hey," Potter continued as if Draco hadn't spoken. "All this time we'll be spending in here we can get to know each other all over again."

"Well Potter, you should know that I don't like being continually hugged by rapist vampires." Draco sneered and tried to push out of Harry's arms. Harry frowned and let him go.

"And now it's another thing." Harry frowned to himself. "You just aren't content with being happy are you? There's always something for you to complain about."

"Complain? Potter, you raped me! Magical vampire powers aside, I was perfectly clear that I was not willing. You expect me to just conveniently brush this aside? I have rights, you know!" Draco sat up pompously on the couch, trying to sit higher than Harry.

"I was perfectly clear that you're mine now Malfoy." Harry stood up, looming over Draco as his voice hardened dangerously. "It would do for you to accept that."

"I thought you said we were going to talk!" Draco panicked, his voice going up an octave as he shrunk away from the imposing vampire.

"Well, I just had a talk with the school board. As far as they're concerned, you are now my property. They aren't going to interfere. No one is. The only rights you have are the ones I give you." Harry's steely disposition shocked even Harry, who swore he would keep a level head and remain calm. But Malfoy always provoked strong reactions for Harry.

"No they ... no!" Draco blinked, his eyes flickering around the room once more for some kind of escape, the small amount of hope they contained draining rapidly. "They can't. It ... it isn't fair!"

"It is. I get what I want, and you'll realise soon enough what you really want Draco." Harry's disposition shifted again, from stoic and determined to ravenous to the point which Harry practically purred Draco's name.

The words sent a throb of dread to Draco's head and a throb of heat to his groin. Draco froze, motionless, trying to exact what this new feeling means, even when Potter prowled forward and pressed Draco into the couch, boxing him in with his body.

Draco was still trying to figure out why he felt so hot all of a sudden. Why his pulse leaped and his skin flushed and his mind yearned to submit with the simple utterance of his name.

Potter's hands trailed through his hair, curving round the nape of Draco's neck. He pressed his cheek to Draco's forehead, inhaling the sweet scent that was meant for Harry. He could feel Draco shiver but it felt like something different this time.

"Draco." Harry repeated, the second shiver confirming his suspicions that the blonde was indeed warming up to him.

_Well, he was a little brat when I was nice to him. Perhaps a little force was all I needed_. Harry mused. _Maybe he likes it when I'm mean to him. It explains why he likes his father so much_.

"Y-you ... I – what are you doing to me?" Draco's voice came out weak, whispered again. It seemed his conviction was tied to his voice, and he'd lost both.

Harry ran his thumbs down the side of Draco's neck, feeling his pulse beat steady. Sliding his lips along Draco's forehead, he pressed a kiss to his brow, nose and cheek before moving steadily to his ear and whispering, his lips brushing up against the shell.

"Whatever I want."

Draco shivered, his breath coming out in pants and his eyelashes fluttering. Draco knew what he wanted, and it seemed to Harry that he'd let him take it.

Licking a long stripe down Draco's neck, Harry inhaled and luxuriated in the scent. The hands that were pushing him away now clung weakly to the fabric of Harry's shirt. The sound of Draco's heartbeat was melodious and filled with the constant yearning, now tinged with confusion and want.

Harry smiled against the blonde boy's neck, the feeling of Draco struggling to restrain his actions almost as amusing as his tantalizing heartbeat. The wicked grin expanded as Harry paused, anticipating what Draco would do next.

_He thinks I'm a rapist_. Harry mused. _Well the next move shall be his, and I will certainly encourage his progress. _

Pausing with his lips on the swanlike curve of Draco's neck, Harry waited. Draco's heartbeat fluttered, and his shallow breathing played softly as Harry waited for the blonde boy to react. Like a startled deer, Draco had frozen, but sure enough, after assimilating to the position he was in, Draco started to move.

While looking at the chandelier, catching his breath as he waited for the vampire to make his move, Draco felt lost in the sudden heat flaring through his body. He could feel Potter's cold lips on his neck, and the sensation had him shivering with anticipation.

As the seconds ticked by, Draco frowned and tilted his head to peek down at the vampire. Harry was just waiting there, his pink lips twisted into a smirk as they pressed against Draco's neck, lashes covering the green eyes as the Gryffindor stared, either at Draco's pulse or his collar.

Confused, Draco squirmed a little, hoping to entice the vampire into action without claiming the blame. After all, it was Potter who wanted this. Draco was merely the helpless victim here.

Squirming a little more, Draco's hands fidgeted on the fabric of Harry's robes. His squirming elongated his neck, almost as an offering, when clearly the poor Slytherin simply wanted to get away.

"Did you want something Draco?" Potter asked pleasantly, his eyes closed now, his words barely a hum against the Slytherin's neck.

There was a momentary pause, then Draco's response came with theatrical vehemence.

"N-no! Not from you. I don't want anything from a horrid vampire like you! E-except maybe t-to get _off_ me! Get off me, you ... you Potter!"

Harry's lips stretched into a smirk, caressing Draco's neck. "Riiiiiight." He replied. Leaning back slightly, he surveyed the flustered blonde, still pinned beneath him, his pale cheeks flushed with pink as his eyes looked vaguely irate.

"So." Harry's eyes lingered over the blonde's face a moment longer, listening to the expectant tone of his heartbeat as he wavered in anticipation. Harry smiled at Draco. "Do you want a caramel?"

Anger flared into bright grey eyes at the flippant suggestion of a caramel. Mouth opening for a furious tirade, Draco started.

"How could you possibly thi- "

He was cut off by the impassive vampire placing a finger over his lips.

"Ah, ah. Inside voice." Harry imperiously reminded the blonde.

Stunned, Draco didn't know what to do, and fell silent with the offsetting correction, leaving the vampire to grin wider at the bewildered expression on the blonde's face.

"Do you want something to eat?" Harry questioned, his voice level and low. "Or have you already eaten? And if not a caramel, then maybe something different for dessert?"

Draco remained silent, a furrow appearing between his brows. His eyes once again wide and questioning, as they had been when Harry had left the room before.

"I'll feed you personally if I have to. No use starving yourself. You're no use to me dead. Now would you like the roast for dinner, or perhaps something more exotic?" Harry persisted.

"Roast?" Draco's voice came out far more timid than intended, his query sounding confused.

"Yes, there's roast potatoes, roast chicken, roast lamb, roast vegetables, roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, gravy, cauliflower, sprouts. That's what they're eating down in the Great Hall tonight. So does a roast sound good to you?"

Draco continued to stare dolefully at Harry, his confusion at the vampire's kind behaviour evident. Harry sighed, and accepted this confused and frightened pureblood as the lesser of evils, grateful for the silence.

"I'll take the general lack of words here to be agreement. Wait here and I'll get your food ready for you." Harry withdrew from the couch, Draco feeling oddly agoraphobic without the looming presence of the crazed Gryffindor in his face.

Pacing away to the burgundy food portal by the bar, Harry opened the lid of the box and said clearly "Roast dinner, all trimmings" closing the lid, before re-opening the portal to receive the steaming plate of roast meats and vegetables, presented on a teal tray with cutlery and drinks arranged neatly. Returning the tray to the lounge, Harry laid the tray across his lap and started cutting a slice of the beef into a tidy size, slathering the meat in gravy and some potato, before holding the fork up and snaking his fingers around Draco's chin.

"Say 'Ah'."

Draco blinked then bucked his chin out of Harry's pale fingers, scowling at the other boy.

"Don't. Don't patronise me. I can feed myself."

"I'm making sure that you eat. Now open up." Harry insisted, holding the fork imperiously.

"I can feed myself!" Draco repeated angrily.

"I can make you." Harry replied.

"No you won't. No. Don't do that." Draco said, his words more of an order than a request.

"Then you'll do things my way, now open up." Harry said, calm and controlled.

A range of expressions waged war across Draco's face, resentment and disregard appearing frequently. Resignation eventually won out, and a very embarrassed pureblood allowed Potter to feed him, something he had not done since he was a child. Draco's cheeks were red with embarrassment as he reluctantly parted his pink lips. His eyes glued to the fork, then to the floor, Draco missed the lavicious look of triumph that graced Harry's face as the blonde opened his mouth for the morsel of food.

Delighted, Harry continued feeding Draco by hand until most of the red meats were gone.

"Can't I have any vegetables?" Draco queried as Harry loaded up the fork with a choice cut of lamb.

"Red meats first. Tastier." Harry replied absently, leaving Draco to wonder if Potter was referring to the meats, or him.

As the meal finished in an air of awkward silence, Harry took the tray away to vanish it back through the portal once Draco was full.

"Maybe next time you'll eat properly when I leave you, so I won't be feeding you again, as pleasurable as it was to see you open your pretty mouth for me."

Draco flushed pink with embarrassment and outrage. "I can't believe ... you're such a pervert Potter." He scowled.

"You'll learn to love it." Harry grinned casually, pulling Draco abruptly to his feet and pulling him in the direction of the bed. This registered with Draco and he stopped, digging his feet in sullenly, balking at the sight of the bed.

With a grin, Harry made swift use of his vampire speed, sneaking quickly behind Draco, picking the blonde up in his arms, tossing him in the air once jovially, just to see the shock on the other boy's face before prancing merrily to the bed and pinning the blonde to the covers.

"Ah!"

"Gotcha." Harry grinned, moving in to kiss Draco softly on the lips while the blonde was surprised and too shocked to protest. Excited to feel the Slytherin melting into the kiss, Harry pressed the advantage, deepening it until Draco's breathing was harried and his heartbeat was racing. Chancing his fingers along the buttons of Draco's white shirt, Harry unbuttoned them slowly while nibbling along Draco's jaw.

"Ah, wait. You – stop." Draco managed to pant out, his common sense suddenly returning.

"Your body wants this Draco." Harry murmured against his neck. "Understand what you're feeling. You can't say no."

"Bu – no. This isn't – uh!" Draco struggled to articulate the concerns he had before the vampire returned to the room, frightened him, then fed him by hand as gently as a healer to a baby owl.

While Draco was struggling, Harry's hand wove its way down into Draco's soft white pants and encircled his stiffening cock. All protests were cut off by a burbling sound of pleasure.

"You do want this. My pretty trophy." Harry grinned, before shedding Draco's clothes and tumbling the other boy into the tumults of ecstasy through sex, blood and skin.

Afterwards as Draco's head hit the pillow, cold hands wrapping him warmly in blankets and cocooning his naked body in comfort, he had but a moment to ponder his light-headedness before sleep took him, serenading him with the steady lull of his heartbeat rushing blood through his ears as a raspy tongue lapped elixir from his neck.

And all he could think was "Merlin, sex is great" before dreams dragged him under.


End file.
